Crickets Rock
by SparklingLetters
Summary: Archie's having a bad day: it's his birthday but nobody seems to notice. Apart from an old friend, and a new one.


**Crickets Rock**

„...and for our next session, I would like you to do a little exercise."

Regina fought back the urge to roll her eyes. She immediately felt a surge of embarrassment at even having such an urge. Perhaps she should address the topic of these responses of hers in one of their future sessions, uncomfortable though the idea made her feel – since she herself was aware of their inadequacy at times they will most likely be an issue to tackle. It was after all perfectly reasonable for her therapist to require her to work outside their sessions as well – therapy was a complex process that required a considerable input on both the therapist's and the patient's side.

Talking of input, today's session left Regina feeling slightly bemused. Their sessions were always challenging but there was usually some sense of closure, a cathartic element. This time something seemed to be amiss, although she couldn't quite put a finger on it. Perhaps it was all a part of the process. She had just resolved to figure this out as part of her homework when the sound of a drawer slamming shut caught her attention.

Archie was rummaging about on his desk now, apparently searching for something in the disorderly chaos of papers completely covering his desk. How did she not notice it before? It certainly was unusual for Archie to have anything just lying around, not to mention patients' records.

"I'm sorry, Regina, I'm sure it is here somewhere," said Archie apologetically when he noticed her intent look. "I definitely need to clean this mess," he added in an undertone, more to himself than to her. He looked unusually lost, and – yes – absent-minded. Could it be the deviation in his behaviour she had sensed but not fully grasped earlier? Archie opened one of the drawers again and continued the search. Regina could tell the situation was getting increasingly embarrassing for Archie. She reached across the desk for the file marked with her name. There was a pale green note sticking out from among the many pages scribbled over in Archie's handwriting. Regina recognised it from her previous assignments. She slipped it out from between the pages.

"Could this be it, perhaps?" she asked, holding it up for Archie to see. "Oh…yes…yes, that must be it." He reached to check the note and smiled crookedly. "Indeed. Yes. Well, please work on this for the next time." He fidgeted, rubbing the small note between his long fingers.

"Dr Hopper, is there anything wrong?" He looked at her, quite taken aback. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, then said. "Why, yes, thank you for your concern." He made an effort to smile but Regina couldn't but notice the result was far from his usual warm reassuring way. She raised an eyebrow. Archie sighed quietly, walked over to the coat rack and retrieved her coat. Regina was even more bemused now: there was nothing wrong about Archie helping her into her coat but this time he had basically used the occasion to suggest she go. He never had done such a thing before, even if it meant a somewhat prolonged appointment; she had been the one to stand up and make for the door, never had he made the slightest hint for her to leave before she was ready to. Nevertheless, Regina moved to take the coat without further protest. Her hand was already on the door knob when Archie spoke again.

"Regina. I apologise for my lack of presence this afternoon. Should the session have left unfinished business, please let's make sure we address it next time." This was him, she thought as she turned to face him. She was unpleasantly surprised to see shame etched in his face. So it was true then. This session was different somehow, probably because of Archie's unusual state; and he must be aware of this.

"Dr Hopper," she tilted her head, "is everything alright? You don't quite seem your-"

"Yes, everything is fine. I won't keep you any longer." He opened the door and held it for her. Regina eyed him curiously for a moment, then nodded curtly and turned to leave.

As soon as the door had closed behind Regina, Archie slumped into his armchair.

What was wrong with him? He was being foolish. Worse than that – he was being selfish and unprofessional, too, and the way he had just dismissed Regina was simply rude.

Meanwhile, the day had started well enough. Archie had been awoken by a phone call from Gepetto, who was unavailable in person that day because he had been spending some long overdue quality time with his freshly regained son Pinocchio. He had chosen to call Archie at an early hour, Gepetto had said with a chuckle, to make sure he would be the first to wish his friend a happy birthday. This was all nice and well, Archie had enjoyed their conversation well enough. The problem was somewhere else: Gepetto wasn't just the first one to wish Archie a happy birthday; he was also the only one.

Of all the people Archie had met in Storybrooke during the course of the day, not one had seemed remotely aware of the day being in any way special.

"Woof!" Archie's bowed head shot up at the sharp bark coming from the door. Pongo had woken up and was waiting impatiently to be taken out. Archie sighed, stood up, took his jacket off the hook, and attached the leash to Pongo's collar. Perhaps a long walk would do him good.

It was already dark when Archie and Pongo returned home. The light in the corridor wouldn't flick on; Archie remembered he had forgotten to change the bulb. His keys clinked as he coaxed them out of his pocket. "Pongo!" Archie cried sharply as Pongo had suddenly plunged forward, yanking Archie after him. "You've been quite a while," came a soft voice from the dark somewhere near the door, making Archie jump.

"I didn't mean to startle you. The light doesn't work though." Archie's heart was slowly returning to its normal pace. "Regina…I wasn't expecting you. We will have some light as soon as I manage to find the keyhole," he could be heard fumbling with the lock as he spoke. Regina patted Pongo and had her hand licked all over in return. Finally, the key fit and the lock clicked. "Please come in."

Friendly yellow light flooded the cosy room, blinding them for a few moments. Archie took off his coat and waited for Regina to hand him hers, too. "I assume there's something you'd like to discuss, right?" he turned to her, his face expressionless, if a little tired. "Yes, I believe there is," she replied with her face set. Her expression unsettled him – she looked almost angry. "Please sit down." He made for his armchair wearily. "No," she said urgently and remained standing. "Excuse me?" "Not the armchair. Sit down here," she indicated the sofa she was standing at. "Please," she added more mildly. Archie was quite flustered but didn't feel like arguing at all. He sank on one end of the sofa. Regina sat, too. "So, what can I help you with, Regina?" She looked away for a moment, a hint of uncertainty about her, but recovered quickly. "I'm not here to see Dr Hopper. I'm here to see Archie," she stated meaningfully. That was a strange thing to say, and Archie's bafflement only grew. "I'm not sure I know what you mean." "I mean I didn't come for me. I'm here to discuss _you_."

"I'm a therapist. It's not for my issues to be discussed at sessions. People usually come to me to discuss theirs."

"Well, we aren't in session now, so your argument is invalid for the occasion. And, just for the record, when people expressly ask about your condition, there is a good chance your issues are precisely what interests them." That came out harsher than she had meant for it to. To her surprise, Archie smiled. She was relieved to see this was his old smile back – it spread right across his face and reflected in his eyes.

"You're right of course. I'm sorry I dismissed your questions earlier today. I just didn't really feel like answering them. I chose to sulk a little instead. Not the advice I would give to others." "I accept your apology on the condition that you tell me the real reason behind this…this state you've been in today." She remained stern on the outside but there was some indefinable gentleness to her manner at the same time, Archie marvelled.

"Fair enough," he nodded. "I…" he felt really awkward and vulnerable all of a sudden. This must be how his patients felt a lot of the time; Regina, too. Yet he expected them to confide in him in spite of their predicament, or precisely because of it, as this was part of the process of healing. He should do the same for himself. If not for anything else, then for this woman, who came back after he had pushed her away - and somewhat rudely at that. He took a deep breath. "Well, the thing is, today is my birthday. And nobody seems to have noticed," he felt his words were stupid just as he was saying them but they kept tumbling out just the same, his frustration given free flow. "And you'd think someone would, seeing as I've made quite a few acquaintances in town. Quite a few acquaintances, but no real friends it seems. Except for Gepetto. Many would call me a friend though, I daresay I'm reasonably well-liked…but…well, you'd expect your friends to know when your birthday is!" he finished in one breath. A good thing he did, too, because he immediately realised how childish it had all sounded, how ridiculous he felt, and he sensed his face burning hot. He kept staring at his hands - anything to avoid Regina's eyes. He could pretend to be invisible as long as he didn't look at her.

The light touch of fingers brushing against the back of his hand took him by surprise. The brief sensation made his skin tingle; luckily, Regina's hand had moved away from his by then. It came to rest on his forearm instead, squeezing it gently. Archie stared at her hand for a moment before he raised his eyes to meet hers. Her look was intense: she may not have spoken at all but her eyes spoke volumes. There was concern, and empathy, and – yes – understanding. She of all people would understand what loneliness felt like, he should have realised that sooner. He had been too consumed in his miserable thoughts to grasp this. He wanted to thank her, he wanted her to know she had made a difference just by understanding, and not judging him. He couldn't find it in him to speak somehow. Instead, he swallowed, and simply nodded. Again, she seemed to understand, and responded by a similar small nod.

A while had passed and neither spoke, until eventually Regina's hand slipped from his arm. There was a moment's sense of loss as he still felt the warm spot it had left behind. Regina had ducked to pick up the bag she had brought with her, and placed it on the couch between them. She unzipped the bag and reached into it.

"Happy birthday, Archie," she said simply, as she handed him a small green package tied with a red bow. Archie's jaw fell. He reached for the package in disbelief. "But…how did you know?" he stammered. "I used to be Mayor, remember? A Mayor has access to sensitive information like that. I just did a little research earlier today, that is all." She watched him intently for a while. He didn't speak; he felt she might have more to say but seemed unsure about it. It turned out he had been right, for she spoke again. "But I wouldn't know otherwise. And I do feel bad about it, too." He was about to cut in but she dismissed it with a gesture. "You have to concede though that it is partially your fault, too. If you never mention it to anyone, how can they know? Perhaps if you had just organised a party, I'm sure they would all be more than happy to come and celebrate with you. You are after all, as you have said yourself, indeed well-liked." Archie opened his mouth, then closed it again. Regina was eyeing him quizzically.

"Quite true," he said eventually. "I could have done that instead of feeling sorry for myself. Thank you," he said, hoping the full intensity of his meaning would somehow get across in those simple words. "Would you stay for a little celebration?" She looked back at him – was that disbelief? How could she be surprised at this after what she had just done for him? Then he understood. "Acquaintances or friends, they didn't show up at my door after they had noticed my odd behaviour, only to make me see reason - and cheer me up. Nor had they brought me a present. You did all that. Will you please stay a while - friend?" he added after a moment's hesitation. "Even though I don't really have anything to serve of course…" "Yes, I shall stay, thank you," she answered at last.

"I don't have any intention of carrying this all the way back home anyway," she smirked as she reached into the bag again. The sass was back, and Archie couldn't help but grin. And his smile grew even wider when she pulled out a mouth-watering apple cake. "This looks absolutely delicious, Regina," he said appreciatively. "I will get us plates." "And glasses, please. For the cider." Of course the next thing to appear from the bag was a bottle of her home-made apple cider. She set it on the table next to the cake.

"Open your present first, if you don't mind," she suggested with suppressed excitement that was almost childlike. "Right," Archie nodded as he remembered the small package he was still holding. "How did you have time to get this though, along with the investigating and the baking?" he said as he pulled at one end of the bow. "I…decorated it myself. There were none like that at the shop." Archie glanced at her sideways. The anxious look on her face moved him. She had put her heart in this more than she was letting on. He ripped off the paper. "I thought, since you had accidentally broken yours a few weeks ago… It was a mug, a simple green mug, except it featured a small hand-drawn cricket and the inscription _CRICKETS ROCK_. He used to be the owner of a similar one but had indeed broken it during one of their sessions. The fact that she remembered how fond he had been of it called forth an extra wave of gratefulness. "This is wonderful. Regina – thank you." He could have sworn the smile that spread across her face literally lit up the room.


End file.
